


The statesman, the professor, and the cat

by Hotaru_Tomoe



Series: Bullets [21]
Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: Boris is a saint, Fluff, M/M, Valery thinks too much, adopting a cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22851763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotaru_Tomoe/pseuds/Hotaru_Tomoe
Summary: Sequel ofThe cat and the full moon.In which there is a cat, this time a real one, Valery thinks too much, and Boris is a saint.
Relationships: Valery Legasov/Boris Shcherbina
Series: Bullets [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1372144
Comments: 7
Kudos: 38





	The statesman, the professor, and the cat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kTakada_112](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kTakada_112/gifts).



"Valery get up, it's morning."

Boris gently shook him by the shoulder and watched the man emerge slowly and listlessly from sleep.

Valery snorted, narrowed his eyes, and mumbled something incomprehensible, stretching.

"What did you say?" Boris asked, with an amused smile on his lips.

"Five more minutes, please," Valery pleaded, pulling the blanket over his head.

Boris should have reproached him for his laziness, but he secretly adored to watch Valery in the morning, sleepy and almost lethargic. 

There was actually something feline about him. Not his movements, certainly not, Valery in human form was as clumsy as he had been as a cat: he hit the chairs, let pens and books fall to the floor, broke a surprising high amount of dishes and glasses.

But when he fell asleep curled up on an armchair, or on the sofa with his head resting on Boris' knees, he really looked like a big cat. And unlike Boris, who was a very light sleeper, he slept like a stone under any circumstances.

As evidence of this, Valery really tried to go back to sleep, despite the sun already high and the noise of traffic down the street, so Boris chuckled and pushed the blanket away again: as adorable as Valery was, they really had to get up.

"You aren’t really a morning person, right?"

"I was, before someone started keeping me up all night," Valery mumbled, yawning.

"You were the one curious about my stamina."

"You have largely satisfied all my curiosities."

"So what? Do you want us to stop? " Boris asked, running a hand down his back.

"I didn't say that," Valery protested, then groaned when Boris' hand squeezed his buttock. "You have an insane fascination with my ass."

"It's not my fault that it’s so perfect."

Boris continued undaunted to touch him, so Valery decided to get up, because if he stayed in bed, the situation would quickly deteriorate, and it was actually late.

He searched for his clothes scattered on the floor and placed them strategically in front of his groin while he went to the bathroom: Boris had no problem parading around the house naked, but he wasn’t at ease as him.

"You are unreasonable, Valerka," Boris sighed, "I see you naked every time we are in bed and, if we really want to point out, I saw you naked also when you were a cat."

"It's not the same thing," Valery muttered, "and anyway I had fur when I was a cat, I wasn't exactly naked."

Boris chuckled slowly, but didn’t insist any longer and let him go to wash.

"I'm making breakfast in the meantime."

"When are you leaving for Minsk?" Boris asked as he rinsed the tea cups.

"In the early afternoon," Valery replied, checking that he hadn't forgotten anything: lately he often stopped at Boris' house, and his distraction has already made him forget his agenda there and even the essays of some students.

"And when you'll come back?"

"I don't know exactly," Valery answered, looking anxiously for his coat, "they called me for a consultation, so maybe three or four days. Boris, by chance, have you seen my..?"

"It's in the bedroom, hanging in the closet."

"Oh, thanks."

Having recovered his coat, Valery was ready to go, but suddenly he found himself wrapped in a crushing hug by Boris.

He relaxed against his body, closing his eyes. Valery had never been a great enthusiast of physical contact, but with Boris it was different: his strong arms were welcome around him, he could have spent hours embracing him (he had done it), and when he had been a cat, Boris’ arms had made him feel protected and safe.

"Have a safe trip," Boris said.

"Thank you."

"And try not to anger any witches," the statesman joked.

"Heaven, no!" Valery replied, shivering at the memory of what had happened to him.

He already had his hand on the handle, and only at the last moment did he stand on tiptoe to say goodbye to Boris with a short kiss on the lips.

"... bye," he muttered, a little awkwardly, and left.

"See you soon, Valera."

Once on the street, he scolded himself for his awkwardness, but that relationship had started so absurdly and unexpectedly that he still didn't quite know how to behave.

It was an uncharted territory for him, a extroverted man, who was at ease between calculations and mathematical formulas, in a world governed by science and logic. 

Instead, in a few months he had discovered that witches, magic and curses were real, no less, and thanks to a witch he was now in a relationship with Boris.

What was the true nature of their relationship, was another question mark in Valery's head.

There was an important physical component, of course, something he certainly didn’t expect at his age: he was fifty years old, and had stopped thinking of himself as someone desirable, nor did he expect to meet a man who appreciated him so much... and so often. Boris was tireless.

Valery, standing at the end of the subway car, sank his face behind the scarf and looked nervously around, fearing that someone might read his thoughts.

Some time before he would have called himself unreasonable, but the meeting with the witch who cursed him had changed his point of view: if magic was real, there were also likely to be people who read mind.

For example, wasn't the man in the brown coat near the doors looking at him with excessive insistence? Was he reading his mind while Valery was thinking of Boris?

The subway reached the next station, the doors opened and the man got out, regardless of Valery.

The professor took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with a sigh: he was becoming paranoid.

During the train trip to Minsk, however, he kept thinking about his relationship with Boris.

To him, it had been surprisingly easy, almost natural, to open up to Boris and learn to appreciate his company, but what did the statesman want? (aside from claiming possession of his bum and gifting Valery with a second youth between the sheets)

He seemed happy to cook for him, or spend the evening on the sofa chatting or criticizing TV shows, but they had never talked about the two of them, about their relationship.

Boris had recently emerged from a painful divorce, and Valery had clearly perceived his loneliness when he was a cat, so, perhaps Boris had become fond of him for that reason only.

He mulled over these concerns throughout the trip, sighing so frequently that an old woman felt obliged to ask him if he was ill, so the scientist continued the trip not only with his troublesome thoughts, but also with a heavy dose of embarrassment.

The consultation they asked him was less complicated than expected, so Valery was able to return home a day early.

He decided it was a good opportunity to surprise Boris, who wasn't expecting him to return to Moscow so soon.

As he walked briskly towards the building where the statesman worked, he saw him sitting on a park bench nearby. 

Boris was reading the newspaper, and occasionally chewed a sandwich, calm and relaxed. It was a beautiful sunny day, so he had put his coat on the back of the bench, and stretched out his long legs in front of him.

He hadn't seen Valery yet, so the professor thought he would come up behind him and cover his eyes with his hands.

He took a couple of silent steps when a white and gray cat emerged from under a hedge not far from where Boris sat, and looked around cautiously.

Boris saw the cat, too, and folded the newspaper, awaiting the next move of the pet, suddenly interested.

The cat scratched its neck with its hind leg, yawned, then sniffed the air, perceiving the smell of the filling of Boris' sandwich.

Boris chuckled, took off a piece of tuna and threw it on the ground; the cat pounced and devoured it in an instant, then returned to look at him hopefully.

Boris softened and threw a few more pieces of tuna on the ground, then reached out to see if the cat approached and let be touched, but at the end he seemed to hesitate, as if struck by a thought.

Probably the same thought that was going through Valery's mind: was it really a cat, or a human transformed into a cat, like him?

What if Boris became attached to it and then replaced him?

Valery backed away but, as clumsy as he was, he bumped into a waste bin, knocking it down.

Frightened by the noise, the cat ran away, while Boris turned to understand what had happened.

"Valery? What are you doing here?"

"I... uh... I came back earlier and... I wanted to surprise you."

"You did it," Boris laughed. He hugged him briefly, then bent to pick up the waste that had come out of the waste bin.

Valery realized he really loved him, for no particular reason, but the thought, instead of making him happy, heightened his paranoia.

"That cat..." he began.

"Ah, yes... it's a bit weird," Boris admitted, straightening up and wiping his hands in a handkerchief.

"I ruined the pleasure of stroking a cat forever for you, didn't I?" Valery sighed, "Now, every time you see one, you can't help thinking that maybe it's not a real cat, but a human under a curse."

Boris raised an eyebrow, struck by the gloomy tone of the scientist's words.

“Nothing so dramatic. Yes, looking at the cat, I remembered what happened to you, but I’m almost sure that it’s a real cat... indeed a female cat."

"How can you say that?"

"Because she acts like a real cat," Boris said, walking back to the bench to retrieve his coat and the newspaper.

"What does it mean? I also acted like that."

"No," Boris shook his head, laughing heartily, "you were anything but a normal cat. That's why I can tell the the difference now."

Valery snorted, but didn't take it too hard.

"Are you coming to me tonight?"

Valery shook his head: "I don't know, I have to go to the Institute and see how they managed during my absence."

"I see: you will work until late tonight."

"Probably yes. I'll call you tomorrow."

Boris put a hand on his shoulder and went back to the office.

Unfortunately, one of Valery's colleagues had called in sick, and the professor had to replace him in an urgent experiment, so in the following days he had no occasion to stop and sleep at Boris' house.

When his colleague returned to the Institute, he gave Valery a bottle of Riesling as apology, and his first thought was to share it with Boris.

Since the statesman seemed to love surprises, Valery didn’t call him, but went to his house just before dinner time.

"Valery! I wasn't expecting you."

"Here, a colleague gave me a bottle of white wine and I thought..."

He couldn’t complete the sentence, because Boris dragged him into the apartment, pushed him against the door, and kissed him.

Valery smiled: he had been right, Boris loved surprises.

"I missed you," Boris whispered, kissing him on the neck, "one more day and I would have come to kidnap you at home."

Valery put a hand on his chest, "I missed you too, and..."

A loud meow interrupted him; shocked, Valery dropped the bottle of wine, which would have shattered on the floor, had it not been for Boris' quick reflexes.

"Valery, pay more attention!"

But the scientist didn't hear Boris' reprimand, too focused on the white and gray cat on the carpet in the living room.

It was the same cat from the park.

"He is that cat…"

"She," Boris corrected him, then confirmed: "yesterday I was in the park and I surprised some idiotic kids who were tying empty cans to her tail, so I intervened. I didn't trust to leave her in the park, I was afraid that they would target her again, so I took her home. I must say, however, that she has been much less collaborative than you when I picked her up."

Boris lifted the sleeve of his shirt, showing some bad scratches.

"She is feral!"

“No, she was just scared. Today she is much calmer."

"So, you think you will keep her?"

"Yes, I have already given her a name: she is Sophie," Boris replied naturally, then went to the kitchen to place the bottle on the table, and start cooking.

The cat followed him like a shadow.

"Is it okay if I cook fish?" he asked, "So Sophie can have the heads."

Valery nodded absently, but he couldn't take his eyes off the cat: he carefully watched her every move, trying to understand if she was truly an animal, because in his mind in his mind the doubt had exploded with full force.

Sophie.

A woman.

Boris had been married to a woman, he loved women, it was clear where his preference lay.

And he was already spoiling that cat with fresh fish.

Sophie's green eyes looked at him.

Would she have been the one who undermined him from Boris' heart and life?

"Valera, what are you doing standing there? And why do you still have the coat on?"

"So... sorry..." he muttered, and went to leave it on the hanger in the corridor.

During dinner, overcome the initial shyness, Sophie rubbed on Valery's ankles, but the professor didn’t lean over to pet her. That was how rivals behaved in love, he knew better: they pretended to be your friend, and if they hugged you, it was only for look for the best spot to stab you in the back.

This didn’t stop him from feeling a little guilty when Sophie left the kitchen, disappointed.

Valery tried to enjoy the evening with Boris, but the thought that Sophie was a woman who would steal Boris from him was already rooted in his mind, and it didn't even go away when Boris blocked Valery against the refrigerator and kissed him, making him feel exactly how much he had missed him.

Valery narrowed his eyes and saw that the cat had climbed up on the table: she pretended to sniff in search of food crumbles, but in reality she was watching him, Valery was sure of it.

_ "That's all you can do?" _ Sophie was thinking,  _ “I can do better. I will do better with him when the curse is gone." _

Boris impatiently pushed Valery towards the bedroom, took off his glasses and made him lie down on the bed, but the scientist still couldn’t relax: he couldn’t see her, but he was sure that the cat had followed them, and was somewhere in the room, ready to judge and mock his performance.

Boris stroked him over his pants, finding him oddly unresponsive, then lifted himself up on one elbow, looking at Valery seriously.

"Will you tell me what’s wrong with you? You have been skittish all evening."

"It's him, the cat!" Valery snapped.

"She," Boris corrected him again, then ran a hand over his face, "I already told you I'm sure it's a real cat."

Valery sat up and gestured animatedly, "Well, maybe I'm not sure, maybe I'm the one who can't see a cat with the same eyes anymore!" He took a deep breath and lowered his head, because he didn't have the courage to look Boris in the face for what he was about to say, "Maybe I'm unsure, and I keep wondering what would happen if we found out that in reality Sophie is a woman... in short, what will you do? And how about us? I know we never talked about a  _ us _ , however..."

Boris lay a little longer to reflect on Valery's words, then he sat up too.

"Is that what you've been thinking about all evening?"

"Actually, I've been thinking about it for several days."

"I see."

"It’s fine if you don't want to talk about it now, or if you don't want to talk about it at all," Valery shrugged: it wasn't true, it wasn’t fine to him, but it wasn't fair to corner Boris so suddenly, demanding answers from him.

"Oh no, if we don't clear this now, who knows what other catastrophic scenario you will suppose."

Boris called the cat who, contrary to what Valery believed, wasn’t there in their room to judge him.

Sophie stopped at the door, looking at them curiously, and Boris put two fingers under Valery's chin to lift his face, then spoke to the cat.

"I'm sorry Sophie, you came late: I'm already taken," Boris said, and then kissed Valery gently.

"Are you serious?" the professor whispered, touching Boris’ cheek with his fingers.

"I'm deadly serious," replied Boris, making him lie down again, "and deadly engaged with you. Can we enjoy the rest of the night now?"

Valery put his arms around Boris’ strong shoulders.

"Yes, sure."

The following morning, Valery woke up first.

He went to the kitchen to drink a glass of water, and Sophie greeted him with a meow.

Boris had prepared for her a basket stuffed with an old sweater, but the cat chose a cardboard box, nibbling the edges of it and spitting out small pieces of cardboard all around the kitchen.

Boris wouldn’t have been happy about it

"You really are a cat," Valery said, and finally gave her a smile.

Sophie walked towards him, meowing desperate as if she hadn't eaten for months, so the professor took the last leftovers of fish from the refrigerator, filled her bowl and let her eat in peace, then, when she finished, he knelt down to pet her on the head.

"Sorry for how I behaved last night, you are an adorable kitten and I'm a fool, but in my defense I must say that people in love often do stupid things."

While he was scratching Sophie behind his ears, Boris joined him, kneeling down and kissing him on the neck.

"I see you two get along now."

"Yes."

"So, do we have a cat?"

Once again Valery thought that he loved him very much.

"Yes, we have a cat," Valery said, and turned to kiss him on the lips.


End file.
